Literature
Anew
The rush of traffic. A roar overhead. A wailing siren. Screeching tires. Urban sprawl is a truly dreadful thing, I think. Void of love for the unnerving cacophony of the city, I cling to fleeting memories of the clear air of the high mountain, the cool breeze of farmland. Glimpses of a natural world
that is what I dream of - a world where humans learn to build around their surroundings, a world where we abandon our quest for the control of nature and accept it as our master
where humanity returns what is not rightfully its own and learns to respect and accept the laws of its mother Earth.
As I watch the sun set in a starless sky, m